Unnaturally Red
by Justified Wings
Summary: One-shot. Drakengard 1. Verdelet convinces Caim to verify Arioch's intentions. Involves some cannibalism of young children. Not for the ideologically sensitive. - Slight AxC


**Unnaturally Red**

"That woman we found," she began, "she is eating the children."

Caim paused in his footing for a few brief moments. Then he continued along as though he had heard nothing in the first place.

Hasty steps followed after him along with the occasional flapping of wings, "Lord Caim, did you not hear her?! I cannot contain that woman! She is a danger to herself and to others! You _must_ do something!"

The prince turned, raised the blade of his longsword to rest at his shoulder, and with his other hand, he gestured. He was somewhere between expressionless and annoyed, and he wore both well.

_"Better those children than you, correct? Or shall we set her right?"_

The dragon guffawed with her raspy tone, wholly expectant of Caim's pitiless reaction. Whatever he chose to do, she would support him. It mattered not if she believed him to be right or wrong. With the world the way it was, one couldn't be finicky over those who came along.

"He seems to believe you may be better off in the position of those children," she explained to the Hierarch.

To be appalled was only natural when it came to Caim and the various things he did. The man had no sense of decency! Verdelet had made his attempts and still they remained fruitless. "He is _mad_."

"Anyone would need to be," Angelus replied. "He is, after all, following the words of a mad priest. You have pushed him. There will be animosity. See how he walks?"

With a jerk of her head, she indicated Caim who, once again, hardly seemed to be paying attention, "His thoughts are filled with the Empire."

"And the Goddess, surely," Verdelet corrected her.

"Either way," the dragon huffed, aggravated by his audacity to mark himself superior, "he cares little for you or what may befall you. You are as nothing to him."

He wanted to argue, but it would have been for false reasoning. She was correct, of course. Caim had made it quite clear early on that he was only around to hunt down the Empire and to protect his sister, now a captive of his greatest enemy. He could not be persuaded to do things solely for the sake of justice, as unfortunate as the realization came to be.

"His hatred will be the very end of him," Verdelet lectured with a practiced tongue.

"Then perhaps that woman will be the very end of you. Our path will grow listless and dull. I am much too great to resort to eating humans and their pink flesh." Angelus motioned to the woman behind them, "I doubt that she shares those sentiments. You will find yourself in quite a bind, it would seem."

As he hesitated, she held her chuckles to herself. She had been far too noble for that also. She would let him worry, concern, and fret over his future prospects. He'd believed he could hold the world in the palm of his hand and yet such would not be so.

Angelus joined Caim at his side. It was only when she protectively coiled herself in front of him that he stopped and gave her a thorough analysis. With clear uncertainty, he reached forward and began to draw a hand over the scales at her neck, as though to coerce her to adjust her position or to altogether move. There was something more, however. He was not offering the malice that typically stained his actions.

_"What is it, dragon? I am more insightful than you think."_

She inclined her head in an amused fashion before shaking it in a vague disbelief. There were allowances she had that others did not. Verdelet would never receive them. She was the fortunate type, that Caim would—at the very least—listen to her.

"Verdelet speaks of her madness. Still he fears for his life. Will you listen to it for the entirety of our journey?" she asked him, quiet and contemplative.

He did not respond immediately. He had no desire to and had willingly released his words for conversation. He allowed them to simply sink in before he felt it imperative to answer. When he did, he was withdrawn, pulled back into his shell, anger tainting his features.

_"You would have me comfort him,"_ he commented, put off by even the mere possibility. _"That isn't on my list of obligations. It isn't my responsibility to ensure his safety."_

"He is not of Caerleon?"

_"If he was, why should that make a difference? A man is a man, and to the bitter end, is still just a man. His life is forfeit in the hands of the Watchers."_

"Your hatred for his ability as the Hierarch." It wasn't a question, more like an observation from her perspective. Angelus was intuitive, however, and knew that Caim only said half of things, even when he spoke with her. "You would torment him for eternity for the branding of your sister."

He said and thought nothing. In the eyes of his dragon, he had simply confirmed her suspicions. After all, she couldn't think of anyone else that he would go to such lengths for. He had one person and that was far better than none, she'd supposed.

"The ties between flesh and blood, they are strong," she noted, foreboding in her voice. "A deep river to drown in and certainly at times a burden similar to that of an ever weeping child."

_"It isn't necessary to discuss,"_ he finally replied. _"Do not begin to think it affects me in the least, and yet I will attempt to engage the woman in conversation. Leave me to it."_

She obliged, not entirely interested in the squabbles of mere humans. Their affections, like their bodies, were weak and without the guarantee of a following day. To traipse into such a direction would be outlandish and ridiculous. Angelus knew this and held onto that idea.

She could not, however, deny that it was amusing to consider that Caim—good and bad and _mute_ Caim—would be the one attempting to exchange words.

**-x-x-x-**

He stepped carefully around her. At any moment, she could decide that children weren't good enough for her, but that he suddenly was. She'd already tried it once. Before he could even fend her off, she had closed in so tightly that he could feel her warm breath on his neck. It was the only thing Verdelet had done so far that was useful.

Still, the Hierarch had already confessed that he couldn't keep her insanity sealed forever. She'd begin to crack and everyone would see the warning signs. After that one mishap, Caim had established that she could have been far worse. She could have been a soldier of the Empire. She could have been a part of the Cult of the Watchers. Hell, she could have been one of the Watchers. Caim had already imagined what they were like if they created people in their image. Terrifyingly evil people could only come from terrifyingly evil gods. Gods who were even worse for having given people the capacity to be so twisted beyond comprehension.

As he neared her, the prince took in the sights cautiously. He already knew the story. He didn't actually care, but he knew. She was an elf, the only survivor of her race, and she had been spared by two elemental spirits who were the pact beasts. 'Spared' at the cost of rebuilding the race of the elves, most of whom Caim had never held any personal grudge against. It was really quite a bit pathetic. To say much more beyond that would have implied that Caim had become emotionally invested. It would have been a pointless gesture in itself as she wasn't capable of determining anything any longer.

He watched her eat, hands covered in blood that never quite went away, even after she'd licked the fingers clean. Torso had been torn open by fingernails most likely, or the bladed weapon she'd been carrying around when they found her. She'd dived into the body as though she hadn't eaten for quite some time, primitive and barbaric, perfect for the age that was surely to come if Caim didn't put a stop to it.

For silent moments, Caim simply gawked, trying to picture what was so tantalizing about the flesh of a child. Part of him wanted to be horrified so he could look away and spare his conscience. The desire didn't seem strong enough, though, or it was overpowered by his everlasting hatred for the Empire. She was a normal woman once, of course. It was through no fault of her own that oblivion had become her closest friend.

_"Woman."_

She instantly jerked, like she'd been having some sweet dream. Her chin lifted and her eyes met his, mistaking his expression for one that was reminding her to mind her manners. In response, she raised her hands, the right holding a mound of innards, likely an invert of whatever combination of colours they were supposed to be. The left held the trail to the right's contents.

He watched blood trickle from the corners of her lips, a most unnatural shade of red that he hoped wasn't permanent. Then he shook his head at her, mostly in disbelief.

_"No. I don't need any."_

She resumed her meal, as if to imply his rejection was a greater loss for him than it could ever be for her. She didn't seem bothered by his presence as she ate either. Her actions remained lacking any refined etiquette. Even for Caim, however, there was only so much he could accept with a neutral demeanour.

_"You gave it before. Give it again. Your name."_

She paused again and sat back, resting her gaze upon his of that delightful shade of blue. There was a confident smile and then a proud one, "Arioch."

Right. Arioch, the last remaining elf in all of Drakengard. The last remaining elf who'd tried to eat him. The last remaining elf who was now eating a young squire of the Empire, just a child in the eyes of the world. How cruel fate had turned and become.

No matter how he seemed to try, Caim couldn't quite find the justification for Arioch's full pardon. She likely didn't know right from wrong any longer and it appeared she couldn't be held responsible for anything she did. He didn't wish to be sentenced to being her keeper. On the other hand, if she kept eating soldiers of the Empire, he'd keep her around as a form of 'holy' judgment. He'd only had plans of using his sword against them. Arioch's idea was probably found to be more frightening.

_"Arioch."_ For moments he was unsure of what to say. Then he thought back to Verdelet and Angelus. _"Have you the intents to consume anyone in this excavation other than yourself, you must leave or be eradicated."_

She pouted at him and made it a painfully apparent action. Inching to him, she made her way to her feet. Drawing a hand across his face and ignoring the expression he gave in return, she licked the tip of her forefinger. "Just a little taste, silent prince." She curled an arm around his and remained unmoved even after he attempted to shove her away.

_"You think I'm a child to play with,"_ he wordlessly snarled. _"I stand by my words. If you've that harmful intent, you will be forced to leave."_

"He spoke too much," Arioch protested, indicating Verdelet. "Simply a taste. Simply a sweet taste. It is really all that is wanted. For a man, he does look so delicious. His bones would be such a wonderful soup."

That was a little too much. Caim despised Verdelet surely, but he'd never dreamed about eating him. He supposed he couldn't chide her. She wouldn't understand what he was meaning to do. He'd end up wasting his time. In the end, the result was the same. The paths were simply different and they didn't matter so much.

When he realized she was still attached to his arm, he inwardly groaned. He didn't like it when anyone touched him, even when it came to people like Furiae. Perhaps he would never grow to tolerate it. He'd never given it true thought, however, and didn't care to start in the present.

_"Get off."_

Her response was to tighten her hold upon him. "The silent prince is letting the good mother come along. Such a delicate, sweet thing you are. Such a sweet silent prince."

Her voice was sickeningly affectionate, something that threatened to chill him to the core. It was distracting, irritating, and an overall annoyance. Maybe he really wouldn't be able to stomach her company, even if he managed to be stomached by her. A few more attempts to pry himself away, they failed, and he decided since she wasn't trying to eat him he'd temporarily give in.

_"You have used enough of our time. We continue now."_

**-x-x-x-**

"You are convincing her that her behaviour is acceptable!" Verdelet insisted with the same tone he always scolded the prince with.

Caim plainly stared at him for a few moments before glancing over to Arioch. She'd long since sunk her teeth into the sleeve of his shirt and he could only assume she was lapping at the blood that stained the cloth, likely a combination of his own and the Empire's.

_"She is not going to be eating any of us unless the order to is given."_

He didn't actually know that, but it seemed more likely that the two—Undine and Salamander—wouldn't let her endanger herself too much. If they did, it would mean risking their own lives. They'd saved her for a reason obviously. Otherwise there was no place for her in the world. No one else would be foolish enough to have such a woman in his midst.

Angelus lowered her head to Verdelet and regarded him silently before speaking. "It is not your time to grow concerned. A little further we go and that may change."

The Hierarch winced. He knew he was reaching for more than he was worthy of. Throwing Caim into such a position was wrong in the eyes of the pious and the righteous. He had convinced himself previously that the sacrifice of one was greater than many, and that giving up a prince would be seen as a good cause. Whatever the cost, the Goddess had to remain alive for the sake of them all.

"I believe I will be the eyes and ears—behind the rest of you," he hastily decided, well aware he could keep a greater eye on Arioch if she was in front of him.

Angelus made no effort to respond as she watched him deliberately fall behind. Instead, she turned her attention onto her pact partner and the elf. What an unorthodox pair the two made. Both being mad with method, however, perhaps that made them appropriate for one another.

"She has taken a liking to you," she pointed out, a nonchalance in her voice.

Caim hardened his stare upon her, as if to say he had no desire to even touch the subject. She was waiting expectantly, though, and he chose to concede, seeing no further harm to the cause. _"My armour is stained. She has apparently decided to prevent it from rusting."_

Arioch raised her other hand and with her fingertips she began to pinch Caim's shoulder. Her actions were thought out and tentative, "The silent prince tastes different from the Empire. His flesh is sweet. He is not so salty. He is like a child."

Like a child, indeed. Angelus could not entirely disagree. His revenge and hatred were juvenile tactics to acquiring his success. They were his excuses for acting irrationally. There was nothing more like a child in her opinion aside from truly being one.

Caim glanced between them both and a single look at Angelus told him what she was thinking. He gritted his teeth angrily.

_"Not another word from either of you."_

"Why, yes. I would suppose you have spoken enough for us all today," his partner nearly chortled.

_"Dragon—"_

She bowed her head and extended her wings for him, "I will say not another word. Come then, onto my back. I will carry you to the Empire you so desire. To a crimson dawn we will all go."

Crimson dawn, a fierce bloodbath in the sky, one that welcomed them with open arms.


End file.
